


Unrespectable

by htebazytook



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Bottom Bilbo, Established Relationship, Everybody Lives, Fix It Fic, Light Dom/sub, M/M, PWP, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Smut, Top Thorin, mithril kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 00:52:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3189686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/htebazytook/pseuds/htebazytook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PWP fix it fic with Dom/sub overtones. I needed a merrier (and smuttier) world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unrespectable

**Title:** Unrespectable  
**Author:** htebazytook  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Disclaimer:** *disclaims*  
**Pairing:** Bilbo/Thorin  
**Time Frame:** post - The Battle of the Five Armies AU  
**Summary:** PWP fix it fic with Dom/sub overtones. I needed a merrier (and smuttier) world.

 

It's a heavy oak door that echoes when it slams shut. The sound Bilbo makes is more muted. He's clinging to Thorin like he had been in the shadowy corners of the Great Hall, squirming as Thorin holds him now against the door with restless hips and beguiling mouth whispering "Please" and "Thorin" melodiously.

Thorin kisses him like he'd wanted to during the feast, in middle of the battle before, for fortnights on end in the Wild. And Bilbo responds so eagerly, leaning as if magnetized to him when Thorin pulls away.

"Are you wearing it?" Thorin asks.

Bilbo's clothes are new and Esgaroth made. He watches Thorin appraisingly and undoes the top few buttons of a soft white shirt to reveal the glitter of the mithril vest.

"Beautiful," Thorin breathes.

Bilbo quirks an eyebrow. "Oh, I see – you are only interested in me for my riches?"

"Now that _is_ true," Thorin says, bending to bite lightly at Bilbo's eartip. "Though not the mithril."

"Mmm," Bilbo purrs, writhing delightedly. "I do love the way you say that."

"More Dwarven things for Mr Baggins?" Thorin licks his way down to the lobe and murmurs, "That can be arranged."

Bilbo chuckles. "I'd rather thought it is Sindarin, is it not? _Mith_ for gray and _ril_ for glitter?"

Thorin pins him more securely against the wall. "You are right, but you also would not know it by its true name. And I am afraid that you will not even in spite of your . . . persuasiveness."

Bilbo regards him slyly. "Need I remind you that I once outsmarted a certain dragon?"

Thorin's eyes drift over Bilbo's body, from his feet to his velvet britches to the fragile cotton over the mail, pale chest peeking through which rises and falls with his shortening breath. "Careful," Thorin says. "I could have you punished for such, dare I say it, _Tookish_ impudence."

Bilbo whispers, "Just you try."

Thorin's hands slip past the waistline of Bilbo's britches to lift his shirt up and off. He does the same with Bilbo, picking him up to the hobbit's disbelieving laughter and depositing him on a low Dale-made dresser. He yanks Bilbo's britches and underclothes off next, dropping them to the floor and leaving the hobbit naked but for the silvered links caressing his skin.

As Thorin straightens he parts Bilbo's legs and drags him closer to the edge of the dresser. One leg twines instinctively around the dwarf's hip and Thorin can't resist grinding his growing arousal against the very clear proof of Bilbo's.

Bilbo gives a pleased little growl and digs his heel into the small of Thorin's back to force him closer. "I love how hard you are for me," Bilbo says in a voice like syrup. "And I love how you feel moving inside me just the way you are now."

Thorin can only grunt his approval, thrusting more sharply so that Bilbo's head tips back on a gasp.

Thorin takes the opportunity to kiss his neck. "What else?"

"When you hold me down on your ridiculous bed," Bilbo says, one hand twirling listlessly through Thorin's intricate braids. "Put me in my place."

Thorin tilts his head, considering. "You do not always show me the respect my lineage commands . . . " 

"Oh yes?" Bilbo hops down from the dresser to stand between it and Thorin, begins a sensuous slide down the dwarf's body. "Then allow me to demonstrate my fealty, my king."

Bilbo's mouth breathing hotly through the lacings of Thorin's britches, his deft hands making quick work of them. He nuzzles against his prize and gives it a few teasing licks up the shaft before sucking the head in.

Thorin grips the edge of the dresser so violently it sets precious trinkets rolling off to the smooth stone floor. " _Mahal_."

Bilbo hums around Thorin's cock and takes it a little deeper, busy tongue driving him quickly mad.

"Good," Thorin says, petting Bilbo's hair before twisting his fingers in the curls to push him further down. Watery eyes flick up to him in surprise but close again heavily as if savoring.

Bilbo pulls off after a warm long while to drag his mouth up and down Thorin's length. "What else does his grace desire from me?"

"I think you know," Thorin says, enchanted by the sight of Bilbo lavishing attention on his cock, "mê ma 'uglakh mi sullu gabshel ."

"Im ui buio taur nín."

Thorin raises an eyebrow.

Bilbo shrugs. "I spent a lot of time in the library at Rivendell."

"I had wondered where you had disappeared to."

"Well, you weren't being the most sociable at the time . . . "

"And how do you find my company now?"

"Big," Bilbo says, though he mostly mouths it against the tip of Thorin's cock and somehow incorporates a flick of his tongue into the word. "Hard," he adds, letting the head rest in his velvety mouth while ghosting down breath over the length.

Thorin's fingers card through Bilbo's messy hair for a moment before pulling him off his cock and guiding him to his feet. Bilbo licks his lips much too lasciviously for such a mild-mannered little hobbit and Thorin kisses his slack wet mouth.

"Lie on the bed for me," Thorin orders.

Bilbo's eyes darken. He slides around Thorin's body, pushing his hair away so he can graze teeth along the side of his neck. "Whatever you say, my king."

"Truly?" Thorin turns and seizes Bilbo by his shoulders, backs him up to the expansive bed at the center of the room. "Disrobe me."

Bilbo does it roughly, at odds with his previous sensuality. After Thorin's clothes have fallen to the floor Bilbo makes to touch the bared skin but Thorin catches his chin and makes him look up.

"Did I say you could do that?"

"Well, no but – "

Thorin's finger presses to his lips. "Do not speak."

Bilbo swallows. Then he hmphs and licks it in parting before stepping back. "Where do you want me?" he asks, beginning to pull the mithril vest up.

Thorin stills Bilbo's hands, then runs his own up under the supple mesh. It elicits a sharp gasp from Bilbo which melts into a moan as Thorin presses him back to lie on the bed, thumbs swiping over the hardened peaks of Bilbo's nipples. He traces the outline of Bilbo's torso over the mithril, around and under to squeeze his backside. 

"Stay there," Thorin says, standing back. Bilbo just turns half-lidded eyes to him and lies there glinting with metal and sweat.

Thorin rummages through one of the dresser drawers for a vial of oil. Lavender permeates the large stone-hewn chamber after he removes the cork.

Bilbo is motionless, but his eyes rake unabashedly over Thorin's body. Once Thorin nears him again he holds out a hand obediently for Thorin to pour the oil into, spreading some over his own cock with a sigh before reaching behind and pressing against his entrance.

Bilbo takes his time stretching out, adding one finger after another and making lewd little sounds. It's a trying sight for Thorin to watch without pleasuring himself, but he restrains himself because it wouldn’t take more than a few strokes to put him over the edge with a wanton bejeweled Bilbo on his bed. 

Bilbo's eyes drift shut, then scrunch up as a moan escapes his lips. His fingers are less tentative and more rhythmic moving in and out of his hole and Thorin cannot stand it for a moment longer.

Bilbo is too dazed to notice at first when Thorin does finally position the hobbit's legs up over Thorin's hips. He moans again when Thorin is lining his cock up, scrabbles at Thorin's forearms as he sinks into the enveloping heat of his body.

Thorin captures Bilbo's wrists to press them down above his head, fucking the rest of the way inside. "Oh," Thorin breathes, "you are - "

" _Move_ ," Bilbo whines, snapping his hips up impatiently. "Come on, please come on . . . _ah_ . . . "

"Good?"

" _Yes_ . . . "

"Hard enough?"

"No." Bilbo's legs tighten around Thorin's waist. "Give me _more_ – oh, you feel so good . . . "

Thorin has to taste Bilbo's mouth again, his smooth jaw and swallowing throat. "I think you must know by now," Thorin says indistinctly, "that I am ever at your service."

And Bilbo is so very cunning - he squirms free of Thorin's grip and Thorin isn't exactly sure how it happens but he manages to flip the dwarf onto his back instead, nimble hands slamming Thorin's arms down as he lowers himself onto his cock again excruciatingly slowly.

"I do indeed know that," Bilbo says, beginning a leisurely rhythm, " _very_ well, my king."

Thorin's breath catches at the perfect weight of him bearing down, the wicked clench of his body around Thorin's cock.

"Thorin," Bilbo is breathing, eyes struggling to stay open now. "Thorin . . . "

Thorin shakes Bilbo's hands away so he can grasp Bilbo's hips. He holds them in place and thrusts more sharply up.

" _Ah!_ " Bilbo leans over him, body relaxing into Thorin's and apparently content to let it hold him in place and take what it wants.

"I was wrong. You are a perfect subject." 

"Yes."

"And all for me."

"Yes, of course, yes – oh just don't stop, please please please just don't . . . _ah_ . . . "

Bilbo's fingers tangle Thorin's braids, his shouts echo and his eager body moves with Thorin's like they're dancing or dueling, drawing Thorin in and drowning him utterly in sensation.

Thorin finds release suddenly, holding Bilbo still and thrusting erratically until he is spent.

Bilbo doesn't slow down. He keeps fucking himself and babbling so Thorin wraps one hand around Bilbo's cock where it's weeping against their bellies. He can't seem to keep control anymore – collapses onto Thorin with mithril links shifting and jingling. Bilbo's face turns restlessly against Thorin's chest and his breath comes hot and short. 

Thorin pumps him faster, awash in the pleasure rushing through his blood and Bilbo's tense desperate body, the hard heat of his cock and his delicious begging voice vibrating against Thorin's skin. When Bilbo finally climaxes he is breathless.

After a short while Bilbo's head lolls to the side and he blinks up at Thorin, laughing softly. Thorin helps him out of the vest before coaxing him back down for a kiss.

"You know," Bilbo slurs, pulling away with a wince before flopping down on the bed beside him, "I should begin to wonder if that vest did anything at all for protection if I hadn't witnessed it myself . . . "

"I am grateful to have found it for you," Thorin says. "And that you put up little fuss about wearing it to battle."

"I did fuss a bit though."

Thorin chuckles. "Yes. And I am glad of that too. It is not in your nature to do something blindly or without question."

"Oh, I see," Bilbo yawns. "So you _like_ it when I question your authority?" Thorin relishes the weight of Bilbo resettling against him, one arm and leg over his body and Bilbo's smile against his shoulder.

"I like you."

*

[1] Westron, "You are greater than all treasure."  
[2] Westron, "I forever serve my king."  


*


End file.
